Habits
by mixthealphabet
Summary: In which Maka is sad and Soul isn't just any guy.


**Habits** by Larissa

She was a girl  
Soft but estranged  
We were the two,  
Our lives rearranged

Feeling so good that day  
A feeling of love that day

* * *

"What did he do this time?"

The question came from behind her door, muffled and dragged, as if the mere thought of what her answer might be tired him. Not that Maka would blame him, this _had_ become a sort of habit in their lives.

She had never been able to get accustomed to her father's disappointing antics, after all.

"I gotta tell you, I preferred when you got mad."

Even though his words were still low and a bit hostile, she could hear an inflexion of humor in Soul's tone and it made her pouting lips twist up momentarily.

"Soul, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I think I need to be alone right now."

Even before she'd finished talking, the boy had already burst into her room, transforming his finger back from its blade form.

"Sorry, Maka. Not going to happen." He grinned at her shock, all sharp teeth and alluring eyes. Soul sat down on her bed, near her feet.

"You didn't have to pick the lock, though." The meister mumbled irritably. "You're going to break it, one of these days."

And he was! She was sure of it, because it was the sort of thing Papa used to do, back when she was a kid, which always made Kami quite angry at him. Looking at Soul, though, Maka couldn't bring herself to scowl him, choosing to shrink deeper into herself.

"What? No Maka chop?" He mocked, leaning back, expecting to be hit. When he wasn't met with any kind of snappy reply or flying limb, his smirk turned into a frown. "Ok, this is bad."

If there was something Soul knew about his partner, it was that Maka wore her hear on her sleeve _all the freaking time_. She didn't _do_ numb, which meant her current behavior didn't come from a sense of indifference, but from an internal breakdown; like when she'd blamed herself for his injuries, after their first fight against Crona.

Soul approached her, bringing her feet over his lap and massaging her calfs with his fingers gently. It was an habit of his, having started after a particularly exhausting mission, when a lost bet had meant he owed her a foot rub. The way it had disarmed her, though, was something Soul hadn't expected, but that he had learnt to use to his advantage.

Maka shifted, relaxing as his hands worked on her muscles, her eyes moving up to meet his quizzical gaze.

"It's not that big a deal. I don't even know why I'm this upset." She begun, stopping to sigh as one of his hands went up to her knee and back to her ankle.

"You never seem to think of anything Deathscythe does as a big deal, anymore." Soul stated simply, trying to reason with her. "Last week, he took you to a bar and challenged you to pick the girl he would be taking home that night."

The anger in his voice and the memory of what had happened then made Maka chuckle humorlessly.

"In his defense, he was drunk and I did Maka chop him quite hard."

"You should have punched some shame into him." Soul suggested, bowing his head so that his hair would cover the irritation in his eyes.

Maka shifted against the matress again, coming closer to him and resting a hand on his shoulder, ending up almost on his lap.

"Papa is beyond my reach, Soul. I've known that for years, but was never able to let it go completely."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Is that what you're doing now? Giving up?"

Soul had reached towards her hand, wanting to bring the girl into an embrace, but she dodged his touch, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Don't use that tone with me. I know we aren't supposed to give up, and it's not really as if I'm caving in." She paused, staring bleakly at a picture of her parents she still kept on her nightstand. "But it's time to call it quits, go on to better things. Sometimes, family just has a way of sucking the life right out of you. You should understand that better than anyone."

He flinched at that, glaring at the wall in an attempt to salvage her from his anger, for it wasn't directed at her.

"I do understand, Maka, but your father loves you, in spite of all his stupidity. My folks… They just didn't care." Soul exhaled heavily. "After I realized that, it was easy to get away from them."

There was a moment of silence in which the boy kept his unfocused gaze, unsure of what he would find in his meister's eyes, but feeling as her green orbs dug holes into the back of his head.

"He forgot what today was." Maka exclaimed, finally. "He was the one to come up with this idiotic monthly meet up, and he forgot." Tears started forming, but she wiped them away, annoyed at this display of her lack of self control. "Today was supposed to be their aniversary, our family dinner, and Papa was too busy drinking his money away and hitting on younger women."

Soul put his arms around Maka, pulling her to his chest, letting the girl bury her face in his neck. She responded with a soft laugh, puting her arms around his waist as he traced her spine.

"I'm fine, I really am." The sadness in her voice hadn't disappeared, but Maka was laughing. "I won't let him bring me down. I've promised myself that no man could do anything to make me hurt like this ever again."

The boy laughed at this explanation, rolling his eyes. Despite her rationality, Maka could be so incredibly hard-headed sometimes…

"It's okay to feel like that. Your sensibility is one of the coolest things about you."

Maka looked up at him then, eyes wide and light. Lighter than they had been the entire day. It was ridiculous, really, how much she depended on him. But it was okay, too, as long as he depended on her as well.

"You're not just any guy, Soul." She muttered suddenly, her breath ghosting over his chin. "You are you, and that means you are the only one able to damage me further."

It didn't seem like a confession, but it sure felt like it, for her words had the same breath taking effect. However, Maka's smile was enough to quiet his troubled mind and Soul found himself grinning back at her, leaning his forehead against hers.

"I will never do that."

For some reason, the girl giggled at this.

"Well, I'm trusting you not to." She brushed her nose against his, half lidded eyes studying Soul's face. "Now, what are you waiting for?"

"I won't kiss you, if that's what you're asking." The scythe whispered in return, closing his eyes with a pained expression. "It might get to be a habit. And I can't get rid of habits."

The girl snickered, remembering how she'd been the one to give him the book that contained such phrase.

"As if I'd mind that. And don't you dare use Scott Fitzgerald against me," was Maka's final remark, before she climbed up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth into his.

* * *

So, yeah, I'm totally proud of this. I tried, guys, you can't blame for that.


End file.
